Title: Interrogation? Author: Gaeriel Mallory
Rating: K+
Fandoms: BtVS/Batman (comics)
Continuity: Set sometime after the Officer Down storyline.
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, The Haven
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, Inc. or DC Comics and Warner Brothers.
Note: Written in response to TTH's Fic-for-all #2268 – Cordelia/Bruce Wayne.

"What do you know about the Watcher's Council?" Bruce asked gruffly as soon as she entered the office.

Cordelia frowned and stuck her tongue out at the top of his head. "Well hello to you too." She threw herself into the loveseat set against the wall and glared at where he was sitting at the desk. "You know, normal people look at someone when they're talking to them."

She heard the tap of the pen being set down against the oak desk and he sat back. "Better?" he asked with a glare.

She grinned at him, refusing to give in to his bad mood. "Much." She leaned against the arm of the couch and crossed her legs. "Why do you want to know about the Council anyway? Last I heard, they had gotten themselves blown up. I overheard some gossip about how they were trying to rebuild but," she shrugged, "it's pretty slow going."

"They just offered a friend of mine a job."

"It's not Dick is it? Because there is no way he's leaving for the land of tweed. Wes and I have too much staked on our bet."

"No, it's not Dick." Cordelia watched, amused, as his face contorted. "Bet?"

"On how long it takes for him and Barbara to get their act together and admit that they want to jump each other's bones." Off his look, she snorted. "Oh, like it's any secret that he's had a crush on her since middle school, and that she used to write 'Mrs. Richard Grayson' in her school notebooks. She probably still would if she had a need for notebooks, with little hearts and everything."

He rubbed his forehead. "The Watcher's Council?"

She smirked at the almost pleading tone in his voice. She'd break him yet! "They trained the Slayer, kept lots of really really old books, wore lots of tweed, and for the most part had gigantic sticks shoved up their butts. Did you know that they actually forced Giles to give Buffy some drug that made her lose her powers? And then set some psycho vamp on her? I mean, what kind of sickos do that?"

"Buffy? Buffy Summers?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Oh please don't tell me you know Miss I-Can-Decapitate-A-Vamp-With-My-Thumb-But-Can't-Coordinate-My-Shoes-and-Jacket."

"She was the one who offered Jim the job. Barbara told me."

Cordelia perked up. "Jim Gordon? The retired cop? Hey, he would totally make a great Watcher. He'd actually care and not try and get all the Slayers killed on their eighteenth birthdays."

"So you think this is a good thing?"

"Well, sure. From what I've heard, Giles needs all the help they can get. They're still trying to get the rest of the Council funds out of the Swiss bank accounts so they actually do some of the stuff they were planning. And with about a thousand Slayers now, they can really use the moola." She looked at him speculatively. "Hey, you might want to think about slipping them a few million or so. It's not like you'd miss it either, Mister Third Richest Man in the World."

He cleared his throat and glared at her. She smirked, knowing that by the end of the week, Giles would have a very fat check on his desk.

"Jim would be good for them," she continued. "Giles needs someone there his age and the girls need someone who can tell them about how to analyze crime scenes and be all detective-y. It's hard training teenagers to save the world, but you'd already know that."

Bruce grunted and his looked down at the papers in front of him. She mentally upped Giles' check by another digit and grinned. "Hey," she said as she got up, "I'm going to say hi to Alfred. I'll have him send you some food. You do realize you missed lunch, right?" She waved at the secretary on her way out, and informed Beth that Mr. Wayne had a giant craving for a large mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows and some cookies, preferably chocolate chip.

She loved her job.

--fin--